Deleted Daydreams
by Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: Alt title: Syb is merciful for the first time in its life. Deleted scenes/chapters from DDNCT either because I get super carried away or I just don't like how they turn out.
1. Chapter 19-20 Alt

**The nail polish I have on right now fucking _sucks_. ****Thats really all there is to be said.**

 **But anyway! ! I got carried away with the cuddles and ended up writing an alt! Chapter end for those of us who don't want to wait ten years for the romance and horseman smooches.**

 **Love them smooches.**

 **Also I did War's POV /third person for the first part of this and I'm not sure if I should do that in the 'main' story because this _is_ a reader insert and I don't want to misgender anyone by using they/them!**

 **This has got some grade A fluff in my humble opinion tho, so... It's up to you!**

 **And more headcanons bc damn I love War. I mean, the dude is probably fifty shades of fucked up from all he's been through, but I still love him.**

* * *

The Advisor is weird.

 _Or perhaps its a human thing?_ War watches his Advisor struggle between warmth and comfort with a mix of amusement and worry. They're teetering on the edge of wakefulness, and he knows they won't be well rested when they actually do wake up.

He also knows how they look when half asleep (which is, in their terms, _fricken adorable_ ), and he's not certain if he wants to interfere with that. Granted, them being fully aware of their surroundings is a good thing if he factors in surviving.

Especially taking into consideration how _frightened_ they appeared when discussing the possible separation. War is supremely irritated that the Advisor is the one that can actually be torn from his side, unlike the Watcher.

Not that he always harbored that sentiment, but recent events have made it painfully clear that the Advisor is worth much more than both their title and what War assumed. Not to mention their unshakable (and _unearned_ ) loyalty to the Horseman.

They're reckless, of course, and War has considered leaving them in a safe place while he does all the fighting, but he's certain that wouldn't be well received by the human. Not to mention what the Watcher would do if he made his less-than-professional attachment to his Advisor known.

He thinks they know, at least. It's hard to understand them (and War is not sure if that is because he's not used to socializing or because they're _human_ ). Sometimes it seems as if they are more similar to demons, always hiding their emotions and speaking in riddles.

The Horseman tries not to let the fact Samael appears to understand them better than he does get to him, but his pride takes a hit every time they exchange meaningful glances. Not to mention how they speak with _Vulgrim_ , of all creatures.

He knows they're only trying to "play by the rules" but it seems maintaining his calm with this entire situation is easier said than done. Samael has no doubt noticed that he's even more aggressive than usual, having known each other for millennia.

Not to mention how they've taken to Ruin, which is...

Strange.

War doesn't know how to name how that makes him feel, truthfully.

He did very briefly consider kissing them when they so obviously faked being tired in order to give Ruin a rest though, and he has to wonder if they would be adverse to that. He's given them every reason to dislike him, from being abrasive early on in the quest to most recently (accidentally) injuring them, but they're...

Much too _good_ for a Horseman such as himself. Too forgiving and clever and-

"Well?"

War barely twitches, tearing his gaze from the human to the impatient looking Watcher. "Do you need something?" He asks, his annoyance plain.

The Watcher growls, throwing its arms up, "Aren't you going to do something, dog?"

 _Like?_ The Horseman's reply must've been on his face, because the Watcher looks even more frustrated.

"Either help them sleep properly or we will be moving forward." It makes a fist, and War grinds his teeth in pain. "I cannot believe I've been reduced to a relationship counselor." It seethes, wings fluttering. "Are you going to let the Advisor die of hypothermia then? We could've saved much more time if you just killed them in the beginning, you know."

War feels a scowl on his lips, fingers itching for ChaosEater as the Watcher circles the human. _Get back_ , he wants to tell it, recalling how scared they looked the last time the Watcher surprised them.

He is not quite sure what instilled such a reaction in the human, if its just a result of their journey or if its the Watcher specifically, but he abhors it.

War is also not quite sure if his reaction is to be expected. Perhaps that's why his siblings took such a shine to the human? Do they all have an innate desire to protect humans, or just _this_ human?

They have been very forthcoming about their time with his siblings though, and War mentally goes over the most unlikely things they've said. Strife getting along so perfectly with a human, Death welcoming them into the fold, Fury trying her hand at mentoring.

Weeks ago, he brushed those off as the human embellishing their tales, but now, he can see it.

He can also see his siblings understanding when he carefully pulls the human into his lap, letting them slump against his chest. They barely stir when he does so, only murmuring what sounds like his name.

War blinks, looking back up at the Watcher for assistance.

"You're hopeless." The creature snaps. It returns to the gauntlet without another word and War is left... Here.

The human is tiny and delicate in his arms, the fresh bruises just reinforcing that image.

War has never felt so guilty for simply bruising someone. He meant to protect them, from _that name_ and the very idea that he is back in some form or another, and he injured them.

 _Fuck_.

He sighs, overwhelmed with unfamiliar and stifling emotions. When was the last time he cared for someone beside his siblings? Before the genocide, maybe?

And this infuriating little human managed to befriend him in a manner of weeks.

As if to prove that point, the human sighs, "War." It's clearer this time, and makes the Horseman feel like he's suffocating. _They're dreaming of me_ , he thinks incredulously. It's not a surprise, given they're near constantly in one another's presence, but _still._

He looks down at the human, taking in the messy hair and the bruise-like circles under their eyes. Their clothes, even freshly cleaned outfits, are ragged, blood stained, and no longer quite as form fitting (Strife will kick his ass for allowing the human to lose so much weight, he's sure. Fury and Death will probably just send him disapproving looks).

They're a mess, to be perfectly honest.

They looked much better when this journey first began, all fresh faced and already firing off sassy retorts, and War wonders what the actual fuck his younger self was thinking, brushing them off.

He'd kill to have that grin back, as the human would say. He obviously doesn't place killing on the same level as they do, but the sentiment remains.

They're a mess and War is completely enamored.

They only sleep a few hours at a time, and War is unsurprised when their eyes flutter open a meager three hours later. It takes them longer to wake up this time, either because they're exhausted or extremely comfortable, War doesn't know.

They look up at him sleepily, eyes narrowing in confusion. "War?"

He doesn't answer vocally, only giving them a minuscule smile.

Their own grin is bright and tired, "Good morning?" They yawn and return to laying against the Horseman. "Am I still dreaming?"

"No." He snorts. "Why?"

They pause, lips pulling into an adorable little scowl. "...I don't know... Wasn't I over there?" They vaguely motion over their shoulder.

"You looked cold." War smirks when they instantly flush with color, and he briefly imagines their eyes brightening in excitement. A pity humans are so hard to read. Their face is a mixture of different emotions, none of them easily transcribed by the Horseman.

"I am _so sorry, oh my god_." They finally say, scrambling backwards. "You didn't have to- fuck. I'm _so_ sorry! I should've brought a blanket or just waited or- oh my god." They hide their face in their hands, completely mortified.

They only glance up when War begins laughing, and solely to ask, "What?"

* * *

He's _laughing_ , and while part of you is all fluttery because of that, most is just horrified that he finds this situation comedic. He's watching your expression with obvious amusement, eyes bright and- _goddammit, not now!_ You stomp down the part of you that wants to kiss him.

"There is no need for you to apologize." He finally replies.

You make a disgruntled noise in your throat, quickly getting to your feet so you can pace. "Fine, fine. Thanks anyway." You say, your voice betraying how totally wrecked you are.

It's not fine.

You just woke up in War's lap.

And you are seriously freaking out.

"You're welcome." War says, his voice still tinged with laughter.

You make a face and continue aimlessly pacing in front of him. You should eat, you know, and then get back to actually continuing on your journey, but War seems content for right now and you need to get a grip on your emotions.

 _Stop thinking kissing War, dammit._

 _Stop thinking about how happy he looks right now and if he'd kiss you back and wow, this is not helping_.

War's watching you, you can feel his eyes on your side. "Are you well?" He finally asks.

"I don't know!" You answer too quickly, hiding your face behind your hands. You tilt your head, just enough to meet War's curious gaze. "Why are you so mean?"

He blinks, tilting his head curiously. "I am a Horseman," _So its sorta expected that I'm mean_ , you fill in. "But I do not see how warming you is mean."

"Because, War!" You exclaim. _Because I'm a filthy sinner and cuddling doesn't help me because while I should be trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to survive, all I can think about is how cute you are and how much I'd like to kiss you!_

You, of course, don't say any of that, and simply give him some silly 'I'm still tired' excuse as you resume pacing.

War holds out his hand the next time you walk past him, still looking confused.

You're not quite sure what you expect to happen when you take his offered hand, but it isn't being yanked back down. You find yourself kneeling in the ash, directly in front of the Horseman. Granted, not pressed up against him like you were previously, but still enough to render you more or less useless.

 _Oh_.

"If I have over stepped my boundaries," He begins, oddly serious.

"What?" You interrupt, eyes going wide. "No, War, that's not... Goddammit. Gimme a second." Holding up one finger to make it clear you need a second, you scramble to come up with a (preferably not totally embarrassing) explanation.

"It's not that you messed up. It's just..." You start, words failing you.

War is frowning when you glance up at him, although its not quite a scowl. The 'what is it then?' remains unsaid, but you know him well enough to hear it.

You kiss him.

Its abrupt and messy and not at all what you _wanted_ your first kiss with War to be, but it gets the point across, dammit.

You're already trying to explain as you pull away, "Because I'm in love with you and that's-" so unprofessional.

But not as unprofessional as War smothering your apology with another kiss. War's is nothing like your hesitant, feather light kiss, its demanding and harsh and _everything_ you wanted.

His eyes are bright, brighter than you've ever seen, when you break for air, and he looks _happy_. Not amused or self satisfied, but happy.

You can't explain what that does to your heart.

You kiss him again (as soon as you're not panting), cautiously placing you hands on his shoulders and leaning closer. He rests a hand on your waist in turn and- look at that, you are pressed right up against him now.

"War," You mumble against his lips, unwilling to pull away.

You feel rather than see his smirk this time, although the effect is about the same. _Rude_. Deciding that isn't _quite_ the expression you'd like, you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.

 _Now who's smug?_

War makes a low noise that sound an awful lot like your name when you release him, and you offhandedly think _so that's how_ to _make him stop calling me Advisor._

You'll have to remember that.

His hand slides from your waist to your back and you snap back to attention. _Right. Kissing the love of my life. Might wanna concentrate on that_.

You do just that, until the stars on your eyelids begin to be a little too much and you realize _wow, I should probably breathe_. Being a human is such a pain.

Not that War seems to mind, as he only tilts your chin up farther when you break away. You don't really have time to wonder what he's doing before he's pressing kisses down your throat.

 _Oh._

 _Fuck_.

You must make some kind of noise, because War stops to stare while you try to catch your breath.

It takes you a moment to unscramble your thoughts enough to ask, "Enjoying the view?"

"Immensely." He says it without an ounce of irony, lips only tilting up when you feel a blush cover your face. "Making the one I love so happy is... Good. Better than I assumed."

 _The one I love_.

The one I _love_.

The _one_ I love.

The one that War, Horseman of the Appcolypse, loves.

You're not sure how many times you run that phrase before you can manage a reply.

"I meant what I said." You finally say, smiling as you press your forehead to his. Your lips brush his as you continue, "I love you. And not just because you're a really good kisser."


	2. Chapter 5-6 cut scene

**These aren't in chronologic order but here's another deleted scene. This time its from in between Death joining in the human training and meeting War.**

 **I really loved writing the other three helping them prepare and stuff but I didn't want to to drag on too long? So this cut. It does give a nice snapshot of what it was like then though! Death being cynical but warming up to the human while Strife is... Strife.**

 **I love my trash boy.**

 **Also hints at the human/protag maaaaaybe havin a crush on Strife so if that ain't your cup of tea...**

* * *

"Hey, kid." Someone says, leaning heavily against your bed post. And by someone, you obviously mean the only horseman rude enough to enter your room without at least knocking. Fury says its because he's comfortable around you.

You bury yourself deeper in the pleasantly warm blankets, groaning, "Nooo... Strife, get out of here." You cannot believe he actually expects you to be awake right now.

"Death says you gotta get up." He hmphs, "You're the one begging for lessons."

You move the blanket just enough for him to see the fierce glare you're sending him. "I'm sore."

He grins in return, once again without his mask. "And here I was under the impression humans are tough."

"Yeah, that's why we're all dead, Strife." You snort, moving to stretch. "Oww," Your muscles protest with movement, much like they had when you were trying to fall asleep last night.

"Did he really hit you that hard?" The Horseman asks curiously, plucking at the end of your blanket.

"No. Not compared to what he could do at least. I mean if he were human I'd say, yeah, he kicked my ass. I'm not as sucky as I was yesterday though." You smile proudly, carefully moving to stretch your back as well. It makes a horrible noise, although it doesn't cause you any more pain. Crk, crk, crkk.

Strife makes a hissing noise, looking away. "I doubt that's helping."

You pointedly crack your knuckles also, laughing at his strange aversion to the sound. "What? Do you guys not do that?"

"The only time we make such a noise, we're breaking something." He rolls his bright eyes. Leaning forward, he grabs the edge of your blanket and reveals the rest of your face. He grins. "You look horrible."

"Fuck you too." You snap with no real ire, glaring up at him.

"Save it for War, kid." He smirks.

You gasp in mock-surprise, placing your hand above your heart. "Such an accusation, before we're even wed!? What kind of person do you take me for?"

"Oh, I apologize," He declares. "I forgot you're the poster child of purity."

"Yes, especially when your dearest brother is concerned." You agree, yawning. "Why does Death want me up so early anyway?"

"Probably because you mentioned War and his big brother instincts are kicking in." He shrugs, glancing around your bare bedroom boredly. Most of your collected things are actually in Strife's room or the living room. Mostly because Strife has sticky fingers, but also because you spend most of your down time following him around like a lost duckling.

"Huh?" _What does War have to do with Death agreeing to teach me basic self defense?_

"He and Fury both know you'll be traveling with War, although they don't know why. I'd assume he wants to indirectly help War out by training you." Strife huffs, "As if shooting practice isn't enough."

"Or Dust told him I can't use either your guns without landing myself on my ass." You try and lighten his mood, smiling lightly.

"Weak little human." Strife chuckles, laying his hand on the top of your head. You think he meant it to be affectionate, but his hand is fricken heavy. You get a mouthful of pillow and the sound of Strife's laughter.

He pulls his hand away not a second later, roaring with laughter as you sputter with indignation. "Strife!" You snap.

"Here, here," He tries to say. "Lemme help you up."

You make no move to help him aside from offering your hand, letting Strife pull your limp self up. "Come on, little one." He groans, still wearing that infuriating smirk. "I didn't mean to."

"And yet I remain irritated." You roll your eyes. "And hungry. And sore. Honestly, Strife, you couldn't have picked a worse morning to try and suffocate me."

He shakes his head, finally just pulling you off the bed. You make a squeaking noise, clinging to him like a monkey. "Strife!" You scold.

"You know, you sure do like saying my name." He hums in reply, turning on his heel and out the door. You don't even bother to reply, although you have to admit he's got a point. You do tend to call him by his name much more than you do to Fury or Death.

He plops you down on one of the bar stools, and you almost instantly wish the kitchen wasn't so close to your room.

This thought is immediately followed by _what the hell?_

You narrow your eyes at the Horseman as he makes you some toast and puts the kettle on the boil. He also grabs the peanut butter and raspberry jam, both of which are 'gifts' from the Watcher's. You don't really question how they get the things they do, but you're extremely thankful for them.

"See something you like?" Strife asks without meeting your gaze. He makes a horrible face upon opening the bottle of instant coffee, shaking his head. "I don't know how you stomach this."

"It's yummy." You snicker. "Not like you have any room to talk, Horseman. Before my... Arrival, I guess, when was the last time you ate?"

"Probably never." He allows, snatching the toasts out of the toaster.

He slathers them with peanut butter and jam while you ask, "What about before you became a Horseman? Didn't you have to eat when you were a kid?"

You know it's a pretty bold question, but the topic at the very least is pretty light. Surely it can't be a grievous offense to ask what they eat. Or ate, you suppose.

You nearly take it back, but Strife interrupts your apology. "Not... The way you're thinking. Most angelic -ish beings feed on energy, not tangible objects." He takes a big bite before sliding your toast across the table, appearing to savor it. "Gotta say we've been missing out."

"Damn right." You laugh, grabbing the unbitten piece. "Although... I'm glad I get to be the one to introduce all of you guys to human stuff. Like, did you hear Death when I told him humans go on roller-coasters for fun? It was great."

"What is a roller-coaster?" Strife asks curiously.

"It's like- ufgh, I'd have to show you one and then explain." You pout, taking another bite. He's way too liberal with the jam, in your opinion. "We saw a broken one last time we went topside and I got real excited."

"I still don't understand why you're willing to risk your life to visit the war-torn remains of Earth." He looks a little perturbed, glancing a little to your left rather than directly at you.

"I miss it!" You answer immediately, maybe a bit too harshly. Strife just blinks. "I mean, I know its not my earth, but... It makes me feel a little closer to home in a bittersweet kinda way." You reiterate, softening your tone.

The kettle screeches before he can reply. Holding up a finger, he quickly pours the water and adds the perfect amount of sugar and cream. He must've paid attention, you think, unsuccessfully ignoring the rush of affection in your chest.

He swaps your coffee cup for your remaining piece of toast, appearing to think his next question through as he does so. "What do you miss about your earth?" He finally asks.

You bite your lip, considering it. "Sunshine mostly. And planting flowers in the spring and swimming and rainy days." You start with the physical things. "And my friends. I miss staying up late and talking to them, and I used to get in these debates with my friend

Nick. I miss that too."

Strife raises his eyebrows, "Nick, the one you mentioned liked 'shipping' you?"

"Yup!" You answer proudly. "I bet he'd be stoked I'm with you guys. Knowing him though, he'd like me and Fury better than War and I."

"Interesting." Strife hums, narrowing his eyes. "I don't think you and Fury would work romantically. She views you maternally, from what I've seen."

You finish off your toast before replying, "Well, if all goes according to plan, she'll be my big sister."

"Still insistent on courting War?" He chuckles, handing you the rest of his slice.

"Yes... Probably, I mean." You sigh, looking at the toast accusingly. You decide you don't really care that he bite it, although your more childish side is squealing about indirect kisses.

"Probably." He repeats.

"Well, I can't really... Loving a character and being in love with a person are radically different things. But even if we don't click romantically, I still wanna see this whole mess through and try to help him. He's still... War. I'll still care for him regardless of how things work out. And it's not like I've got anything to lose at this point." You try to explain, your words seeming twisted up.

Strife is silent while you anxiously sip your still too hot coffee. It doesn't burn, thankfully, but it does feel weird. You're like 93% sure that you're fireproof at this point though, so maybe it should burn.

"Humans are such strange beings." The Horseman finally says.

"Finally something we agree on, brother." A voice says from the doorway.

You go rigid, choking on your drink in shock. Strife's lips pull into a smirk as you struggle to control your coughing, much to your annoyance. "Shut up." Pressing a hand against your mouth, you give him the harshest glare you can mange.

"What a warm welcome." Death responds, moving to lean against counter next to you. You wonder if its always so... Domestic around here. It didn't seem like it when you first arrived, but now they seem to be making an effort. Maybe they're just trying to humor the strange little human?

"Hi... Death." You finally greet, smiling awkwardly. "What's going on?"

"You're late." He states blandly, Dust chirping in agreement.

"I'm still eating." You argue lightly, holding up your cup as proof. "Also I blame Strife."

"Rude." The man in question huffs.

Death ignores him, fixing you with his bright orange gaze. "Are you ready for farther training then, human?"

"Heck yeah!" You grin excitedly, "Although I'm sorta sore so please keep that in mind."

"Sorta? I had to carry you here." Strife snaps, trying to glare a hole in his brother's mask. "You shouldn't be training 'em so hard."

You think he's trying to help you, but the tone he uses is way too aggressive. He almost sounds like he's threatening Death, which is just ridiculous. You know they're not the best of friends, but still. "Strife." You start, interrupted by Death's low voice.

"Humans weren't the Third Kingdom for nothing, Strife. They are much stronger than you give them credit for. If they-" He glances at you, "Are to be traveling with War, we should expect the worst. The Horseman aren't exactly guests of honor." He reverts to biting sarcasm.

Strife's lips pull back in a vicious scowl. "Yo-

"Please, stop." You hold up both hands, your face set in a stubborn pout. "Don't you dare start a fight over my well being. I get that you're worried, Strife, but I promise I can take care of myself. Death... he's not gonna actually hurt me, and I really truly do need to train."

Strife grinds his teeth, watching you carefully. "Why?"

"You know I can't tell you that." You sigh.

"Damn Council." He snarls, the ire behind it making you flinch. It's not directed at you, you are completely sure of that, but its still... Scary.

"What can you tell us?" Death suddenly inquires, his voice giving nothing away.

You press your lips together, thinking it through. "I... I know a possible future. The Council wants me to swing it in their favor, and I... Have my doubts. War... His well-being is important to me."

"Because you know him so well." Death rolls his eyes.

You ball your fists, trying to control your anger. Honestly you have no right to be offended by his mistrust, and yet... "I do! You can't just- live someone's life without growing attached to them and understanding! If I didn't, you think I would still be here? This whole fucking place is terrifying and knowing what'll happen just makes its ten times worse, and I don't care! If I can help I will and don't you dare doubt that, Horseman."

He seems stunned, remaining perfectly still while Dust loudly squawks and ruffles himself up.

"Well," Strife says from across the table, doing a pretty shitty job of breaking the tension. Nonetheless thankful for the distraction, you send him a weak glare. "I didn't think you had that in you."

"...Thanks." You answer dryly, looking down at the counter.

"You're welcome, little one." He chuckles, leaning over to pat the top of your head. You don't think the hard countertop would be as forgiving as your pillow, prompting you to shove his heavy hand off as soon as possible. You smile at his mock-offended expression.

"Well, what do you have here?" Yet another voice purrs, the third Horseman draping her arms around your shoulders.

"We're having a party." You explain dully, wondering why today of all days everyone had to be home. You wouldn't even be surprised if a Watcher showed up at this point.

"A party at seven thirty in the morning that involves yelling?" She muses, setting her chin on top of your head. You doubt she even realizes how similar she and Strife's mannerisms are. Maybe Death and War are the same way and you just haven't gotten the chance to find out yet?

"In our defense it's probably the best party in ages." Strife says. He seems oblivious to your discomfort, and Death is still silent.

"I'm inclined to agree." Fury pulls her hand through your hair none-to-lightly, making a noise of disapproval when she comes across several knots. "So messy." She scolds.

You hazard a glance at Death, silently asking him if they're always like this.

Thankfully he understands. "You can preen later, Fury. We have to start training." He says, straightening up. Fury releases her hold on you without hesitation, and Strife salutes as you exit (nerd).

You wait until they're out of ear shot to ask Death incredulously, "Was that a bird pun?"

He gives you a scalding glare, "Of course not."

You... Honestly do not know if he's being sarcastic or not.


End file.
